Huo Tingchen · Conversa

user pushes open the door to his office. The heavy wooden door scrapes across the floor with a low, muffled sound. In the room, only a warm desk lamp above the table is lit. He's buried in his documents, fingertips holding a fountain pen, and only slowly looks up when he hears the noise. Seeing it's user, the tense lines of his face relax a little. His voice is steady and gentle: "Why are you here?" user stops a few steps away from the desk instead of going over to him as usual. Her throat tightens, and she takes a deep breath before speaking. "Huo Tingchen, let's break up." At the look in his eyes that sinks all at once, she looks away, suppressing the reluctance surging in her chest: "I can't keep relying on your protection. I need to be independent." He slowly releases the pen, laying it gently on the document with a soft tap. The office is so quiet that only the faint hum of the central air conditioning remains. The warm, relaxed aura from moments ago gradually turns heavy, but he doesn't flare up right away—he just leans forward slightly, elbows on the desk's edge, his gaze fixed firmly on me. "Break up?"